I've worked in an office setting for a while now (much to my dismay), and I've run across all types of people. There's the guy who has to be making some sort of noise as he walks down the hall (clicking a pen, whistling, snapping), the woman who would pluck her nose hairs at her desk, the guy with a horribly annoying ringtone with the volume turned all the way up, the guy who says 'how we doing?', the woman who advertises when she has a cold sore (obviously not aware that it's HERPES), the guy who clips fingernails in his office, oh and don't forget the guy who swings a golf club in the hallway - sometimes real, sometimes an air club. I mean all types.
Lately though, there's been a new one roaming the office. It's the guy who likes to sing like a hair metal singer. He'll go to the mail room and suddenly sing out 'I wanna rock!' in a whiny voice. Or he'll be making copies and out comes 'I've got two tickets to paradise!'. Or sometimes he'll be getting coffee and it's 'Cum on feel the noise!' He's got quite the repertoire.
I probably wouldn't mind if the kid could sing. But he can't. Not even close. He sounds like I imagine a dying squirrel would sound. Or a dying cat. Some type of small, furry animal dying a horrible death. And he's the one kid in the office who looks the very least like a guy who'd sing hair metal songs. Don't get me wrong - none here looks like he'd sing hair metal songs. Well one used to have a very small faux hawk, but he got the boot weeks ago.
Now if we could just get one with a tic, or maybe Turret's. Then we'd be a well rounded group.
1 comment:
Sometimes I kind of miss the office. There was so much cringing to be had! Such a festival of vicarious embarrassment!
I get nostalgic about it, then remember that I was frequently nearly driven to tears by one man's insistence on listening to the same Rascal Flatts album EVERY. DAY. Oh, right. I guess wanting to murder people WASN'T so fun.
But I do wish I could work in an office for like, one day a week, just to gawk.
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